


Colors of Chaos

by paigemccullers



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, but also i dont know what im doing, generally keeps with the same timeline, lexa has loved clarke in colors since she fell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paigemccullers/pseuds/paigemccullers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa wonders if Clarke regrets falling from the sky. It rains later that day and Lexa can’t help but think of how it suits Clarke.</p>
<p>Falling from the sky. She could drown in her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors of Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Lexa is so gay and Clarke is so pretty

The day Lexa meets Clarke; the sky bleeds, screaming red and black. Thunder, a warning, rumbles over The Mountain and war is on the tip of her tongue. She should have taken the hint. Clarke is nothing but words, she wraps them around Lexa’s heart, her lungs, her head. Clarke is words and words and chaos.

She is a storm and Lexa has already decided to let go.  


-  


Lexa kisses Clarke. She’s known weakness since Costia, she has been weak since Costia, she still lies for her. Lexa kisses Clarke and she realizes that Clarke has already won the battle. Lexa kisses Clarke and she can’t take it back.

Clarke isn’t ready. Neither is she.

At the end of the day it helps, because she leaves Clarke. She leaves her at The Mountain and only looks back once she’s reached Polis. Lexa would sacrifice herself for her people. She has no trouble sacrificing the girl who uses words as a weapon.

This is what she tells herself when she fails to find sleep the third night in a row.  


-  


“I’ll kill you!” This isn’t the Clarke that Lexa knows. She shouldn’t have been so naïve to think that _that_ Clarke would still exist after what she did.

The guards drag her away and Lexa suddenly feels Clarke’s words around her lungs, squeezing, crushing. She can’t breathe and the sky is full of clouds, dark and grey. Lexa wonders if Clarke regrets falling from the sky. It rains later that day and Lexa can’t help but think of how it suits Clarke.

Falling from the sky. She could drown in her.  


-  


Titus believes she will die. Soon. He believes that Clarke’s words have somehow wrapped their way around the coalition, around the decisions Lexa makes. Clarke shakes her head in disgust.

“You think your Commander is emotionally inept?”

“I think your influence has warped her view on the matters at hand.” Lexa’s jaw clenches, she bites back at the words trying to spill from behind her teeth. Clarke manages to look annoyed, tired and appalled all at the same time.

“Blood must not have blood.” Lexa seethes quietly.

“So what can we offer to those whose lives have been affected by the actions of the Skaikru? Words of sadness? A deep and heartfelt apology? They will only take matters into their own hands, Heda.” Titus spits his words, his hands have formed fists and Lexa has not seen him like this since his family was taken from him years ago. Since the Ice Nation ripped them apart like canvas.

“We offer them support. There _will_ be justice but no blood will be spilled in order to get it.” Titus huffs and grinds his teeth, Lexa fights the urge to roll her eyes and send him away. “Is this not a better way of survival? Think of the lives saved? There will be peace and we will be the ones to thank.”

“I cannot protect you if you do this. Just know that.” Titus throws Clarke one final resentful look before leaving Lexa’s room. The doors slam behind him and Lexa feels the dull ache of terror deep in her gut.

“You _are_ doing the right thing.” Clarke turns to face her, there’s a sliver of sun coming through the clouds, illuminating the side of Clarke’s face. Lexa doesn’t know how to reply. Ever since she met Clarke war has been on her tongue, she wonders how much longer they’ll make it before the word leaps from her mouth.

“Am I?”  


-  


The sky is grey and feverish the day Clarke comes to her room. Clarke stands at the window and Lexa compares her silhouette to something from a dream. Clarke tells her that the rain, the water, still makes her shiver. She can’t swim and she’s had nightmares of drowning since she hit the ground. Lexa thinks of the irony.

She thinks of how she’s been drowning since Clarke’s words wrapped their way around her throat.

There is a storm brewing and Clarke flinches with every flash of lightening that crosses the skies. Lexa lights more candles to try and create a reassuring warmth but it doesn’t seem to do much for Clarke. The flickering light has always distracted Lexa from the darkness both inside of her and out. Costia used to blow the candles out before they slept.

“ _We don’t want the Commander going up in flames, do we?”_

_“It would be such an honorable death.”_

_“You forget, if you were to burn in this room, I would too.”_

_Lexa kisses her. She kisses her and kisses her until they fall asleep folded in each other’s limbs. She remembers to blow out the last few candles before pulling the furs around them both. She’s been burning since._

“I have books if you would like to read something? Or you could take my bed if you’d prefer to sleep.” Lexa offers carefully, making it quite clear she respects the distance Clarke is putting between them. Clarke shakes her head and takes the seat adjacent to Lexa. She picks up the book on the table in front of them both.

“What is this?”

“A story. A world with houses and families.”

“Before the war?” Lexa nods soundlessly. Clarke flips open the book and tucks her feet beneath her. Lexa takes her silence as acceptance and gets back to her own book.

Only now she can’t concentrate. Clarke is here and with every flash of lightening her hair changes colour, it’s yellow and gold and white. Clarke is a contrast. Lexa spends her time across from Clarke trying not to stare at her lips, the arch of her nose, the high rise of her cheekbones. Clarke must notice because she glances over and catches her gaze. Lexa blushes and looks away instantly.

She would like nothing more than to touch Clarke; she wants Clarke’s words to stop worming their way through her mind. She wants to take Clarke’s words and replace them with her own. She wants to tell Clarke what she thinks about her. She would love for Clarke to be wrapped up in _her_ words for once.

See how she likes it.

Her mouth has gone dry and her breathing, so shallow her heart thumps in her chest.

“Are you alright?” Lexa jumps, almost forgetting Clarke is barely a few feet away. She nods, not trusting her voice. Clarke narrows her eyes. “Are you sure about that?” Clarke’s voice has dropped and Lexa’s neck snaps to attention. Clarke is looking at her like she knows something Lexa does not. Lexa swears Clarke’s eyes turn a shade deeper but she’s not close enough to see.

She’s barely treading water.

Clarke is at the centre of the chaos within her.  


-  


Clarke takes it as an invitation to start joining Lexa in her room at the end of the day. Lexa doesn’t know why she comes, at first, she thought it to be fear but this is Clarke. Lexa does not think Clarke fears much of anything anymore. She still fears the water, she fears for her people, but Lexa thinks she has given up the fear of death.

Lexa does not like this.

Clarke lives where Lexa does not. If the darkness touches Clarke she’s not sure what she’ll do.

She remembers trying to teach Clarke of weakness, of strong-mindedness, of the strength it takes to be a leader. She now knows Clarke doesn’t need those things. Clarke doesn’t hear anyone’s words but her own and her strength is unquestionable.

She thinks that Clarke would make a _much_ more effective Commander than herself.

“Without you, there would be nothing but war.” Lexa tells her.

“Without you there would be nothing.” Clarke counters, as if knowing exactly how much doubt has entered Lexa’s system. Lexa imagines a world under Clarke’s reign. She doesn’t think a sweeter thought has ever crossed her mind.

“What would I think of you if you said even half of your thoughts out loud?” Clarke sets her book down and angles herself towards Lexa on the couch. Lexa swallows thickly and stares Clarke right in the eye.

“I imagine you’d think just as little of me as I do myself.”  


-  


“You shouldn’t be moving, Heda.”

“Clarke, _please_.”

“No!” Clarke pushes Lexa’s shoulder back, her whole body follows as she sinks onto the bed. Clarke’s features harden and suddenly, she is Wanheda. “I can handle this.”

“They will not _listen_.” Lexa spits harshly, she knows she loves Clarke, she is not ignorant to the weakness that settled within her from day one but she does _not_ love Wanheda.

Ontari murders the Nightblood and Lexa throws Blood Must Not Have Blood out. Aden is gone and the terror that settled in Lexa’s gut not long ago suddenly explodes, she can’t tell what hurts worse, the sword that had been driven through her side or the helpless feeling that stings every nerve in her being.

“I want her dead.” Lexa is fire and she will burn everything. There’s worry in Clarke’s eyes and the sky is bright. Too bright for a day like this.

“Blood must not have blood, Heda. You wrote this! You have to fight for peace.”

“I fight for nothing! How can I fight for peace when no one will fight with me? How do I stop a war that hasn’t ceased since the beginning of time? I am no God, Clarke!” Lexa manages to sit upright, the pain she feels is blinding and she knows if she tries to stand she’ll hit the floor within seconds. She can’t let Clarke know that.

“No one? What about me?! What have I been fighting for? I’ve stood with you since the beginning! You _left_ me but I stayed. With you. I stayed to fight!” Clarke steps back and takes a steadying breath. Lexa’s nose flares, her eyes are wide and her jaw tightens, fighting Clarke’s words, words that are trying to wrap their way around her wrists.

“I can’t listen to you this time, Clarke.” Lexa says, her voice shakes; she’s going to vomit. Clarke recognizes the face she’s making and grabs a pot, hastily shoving it in front of her and sweeping Lexa’s hair from her face.

“You can’t do anything in this state.” Clarke sighs and Lexa thinks it sounds like defeat. “We could send a team to capture her, bring her to Polis. Her fate will be decided then.”

“You think I will forget what she did in the time it takes to find her?” Lexa gasps, clinging onto the pot. She feels hot and cold at the same time and the room’s beginning to spin.

“Of course not.” Clarke whispers softly, rubbing her hand in small circles over the top of Lexa’s back. She silently wishes she’d stay.  


-  


Lexa wakes to winds knocking candleholders over and curtains flapping violently. The doors to her balcony would always blow open in high winds but it hadn’t happened in quite some time. The sky outside glows a deep pink and Lexa is unsure of the exact time of night. Her side burns but she has to find a way to get up to close the doors.

“I got it.” Lexa’s eyes fly towards a figure moving from the couch. It’s Clarke, she’s wearing her nightclothes and Lexa remembers _nothing_ from the night previous. Clarke shuffles to the doors and drags a heavy box with her, barricading the doors shut. “God, it’s cold.” Even from her place on the bed in the dark, Lexa can see Clarke is shivering.

“Clarke?” Lexa asks, because she’s not entirely sure what is happening or where she is, she still feels a little sick and she might just be dreaming.

“Are you okay?” Clarke looks as if she actually _glides_ to Lexa’s bedside. Clarke presses a hand to Lexa’s forehead and she can’t stop the way her eyes fall closed at the contact.

She can’t fight the way she leans into the touch.

“You feel okay.” Clarke whispers as her hand slides down to Lexa’s cheek.

“It’s just my side.” Lexa’s voice waivers and she hates herself in that moment. Clarke bends down, a little closer; her eyes never leave Lexa’s. “Clarke.” Clarke’s hand slides down to Lexa’s ribs. She shoves the furs aside and inspects the gaping hole in the side of Lexa’s stomach.

“This is a mess.” Clarke shakes her head.

_So am I._ Lexa thinks. Clarke lights the candles around Lexa’s bed that’d been extinguished in the gust. She rolls the furs all the way off of Lexa’s body and begins to change the bandages. Clarke’s hair falls in her face and the need to push it out of her eyes is overwhelming.

She lifts her hand and gently tucks the hair behind Clarke’s ear. Clarke’s hands cease their movement for a couple of seconds. Clarke chances a glance at her. Lexa can’t help but look at Clarke like she put the stars in the sky, like she’s one of the stars that fell from the sky.

Maybe the sky knew that Lexa needed her.

“You have saved me more than once, Clarke.”

The war that has been dancing on the tip of her tongue isn’t with anyone but herself.

“I have no doubt I will be saving you again.”  


-  


Clarke saves her again when they imprison Ontari. They use The Moutain as a kind of prison. They convert the building so there’s only one way in and one way out (except to Lexa who knows there has to be more than one entrance.) Lexa decides that a life in a box is a better punishment than an easy death. Clarke’s words had found their way into her mind once again.

“Is this not a better way, Heda?” Clarke asks as they make their way back to Polis on horseback. Lexa thinks it sounds an awful lot like “I told you so.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone.” But Lexa smirks silently to herself; Clarke catches the look and rolls her eyes.

Lexa has noticed all of the ways Clarke creates havoc within her. At first she thought Clarke was just a storm that would come to pass. Clarke is a hurricane. Clarke is the winds that blow her balcony doors open at night. Clarke is the sun and the rain and the sky. Clarke is the water that she hates so terribly and Clarke is the words that create chaos in her brain.

Clarke is an apocalypse that’s already begun.  


-  


There’s a knock at the door. Lexa finds it utterly pathetic that she knows its Clarke before the other girl even enters the room. She calls for her to come in.

“Hey, how are you?” Clarke asks, shutting the door behind herself and making her way over to the balcony where Lexa stands.

“I am well, thank you. Yourself?”

“Good. My mom and Kane are on the way here.”

“Any others?”

“Octavia, Lincoln. I hope that Raven will come too, but my mom wasn’t too sure when I spoke to her last.”

“What of Bellamy?” Lexa asks carefully, unsure if the topic is still a sore spot for Clarke. Clarke looks down to her feet and clasps her hands together.

“Kane hasn’t managed to get through to him yet. I’m surprised Octavia hasn’t done something…”

Lexa nods silently, understanding that Clarke would rather let the topic go for now. She stares out to the sky where the sun sets. She remembers the day her love for the sky began. She remembers how she hated Clarke and the way she fell to destroy her people. She remembers staring upward, unbelieving that anyone could fall from the sky, never mind someone as hardheaded as Clarke.

She remembers the day she started noting the slight colour changes. She remembers the day she started counting stars and drawing them together in constellations.

Clarke tells her that there are actually constellations in the sky, already made. Lexa doesn’t believe her at first but Clarke draws her closer and points upwards, joining stars together with her finger. Lexa doesn’t remember her jaw dropping or the way more and more stars seemed to come into view.

“Stars fall from the sky all the time.” Clarke explains as the sun begins to dip, her eyes lighting up, a blue Lexa’s only seen in the ocean. Clarke says so many things that confuse her; it is then that she thinks Clarke’s words are no longer there to wrap her up.

“You are the only one I’ve ever noticed.” Clarke looks at her with something akin to awe on her face. The setting sun reflects on Clarke’s hair and Lexa is positive Clarke was sent here to save her.

Clarke turns to face Lexa and looks downward. Lexa follows her gaze and catches the way Clarke tangles their fingers together, she’s so gentle, as if asking permission.

“And I will never leave your side again.” Lexa doesn’t mean for it to come out a whisper but she’s afraid to break whatever is happening between them. Thunder rolls in the distance and Lexa is so used to thinking of it as a warning. She stares at Clarke and there is a storm in her eyes. Blue and grey and disastrous.

“I know.” The relief that floods Lexa’s system is wholly Clarke Griffin. Clarke has been waiting to drown her completely and now she’s done it. Lexa is left stranded. Clarke has given Lexa all that she’s wanted.

Forgiveness.

Clarke tilts her head to the side and pushes up against Lexa just the slightest. Much like the day Clarke fell, Lexa doesn’t see it coming.

She captures Lexa’s lips in a soft kiss and brings a hand up to cup her cheek. The kiss in the tent doesn’t really compare to the anarchy that Clarke is creating within her right now. Clarke kisses her slow and steady, Lexa places a hand on Clarke’s hip tentatively. Clarke presses her body further into Lexa’s; she tugs her hips a little harder.

The sun finally slips beneath the skyline, painting the sky orange and red. Lexa doesn’t see the colours change, she doesn’t see the way the blackness creeps in and takes the colours away. Lightening flashes and she’s on fire; the thunder could shake Polis to the ground and Lexa wouldn’t have a clue.

It is then that she realizes Clarke did not fall to save her.

Clarke is the one that will bring her to her knees.


End file.
